In a cramped environment like the Cluster, the transition from sleep to wakefulness is immediate. Fai was already up- no doubt making sure the kids were ready to go about their days at school- and Huw took a moment to appreciate the extra couple of moments of sleep she had deigned to grant him.
The kids were quieting now, and Huw could smell the corn Fai had left out before heading to her day job herself. Huw stretched as he lightly padded over to his phone, the white glow of its screen contrasting the neon lighting up his family’s apartment.
Huw looked out his window at the busy streets below, red-green-blue lights flickering as cars zipped through the busy street near the Cluster’s parking garage. Shaking his head, Huw walked back to his table and picked up his phone, checking through his email.
SUBJECT: DINNER TONIGHT
TO: Albert, Edison
FROM: Smith, James
BODY: Hey Ed, how’s it going? Listen, I know it’s been around three weeks but I just wanted to follow up on that contract we discussed. I know you’re a busy man and it’s on pretty short notice but would you like to meet up with the five of us later? We’ve been working pretty hard- the noises the local mechs make are pretty distracting, but we’ll manage.
Hoping to hear from you soon,
James
The message was in his code, at least. The origin email was right, too- these measures probably wouldn’t hold up under intense scrutiny, but Huw avoided jobs that put him under intense scrutiny in the first place. With two kids, Huw couldn’t afford scrutiny- not even about his living arrangements. It wasn’t uncommon for a group of a dozen or so people to buy out an entire floor in an apartment building in the Cluster, but it was worthy of a second glance- the risk, however, was worth the security and anonymity it provided himself, his family, and his crew.
Knocking out connecting walls between two apartments to double the space for his family was probably a bit too blatant an expression of ownership, but The Cluster was autonomously managed and maintenance and security were left up to the residents.
Huw sighed, got dressed in his work clothes- black hoodie, black jeans, a white polo with blue neon threads, and a pair of sturdy black boots- and strode out of his apartment.
The upside of living nearby the industrial district is that it’s really easy to find an unsupervised spot to hold a meeting- a great boon in Neo Miami, where the only thing stopping a corporation from deciding to look at your emails was the fact that if they got caught they’d be in deep shit and unable to legally prosecute you for anything those emails said if they weren’t obtained with a warrant.
That didn’t stop corporate loan sharks or hit squads from coming after you, of course, but most of those were audited by a separate department and those departments still wanted something resembling just cause to avoid getting their policies destroyed by the other corporations.
Neo Miami- black, glowing city that it is- was run by the corporations. Sure, the police enforced the laws where they could, and even some places they couldn’t, and were well-known to be incorruptible- successful bribes tended to be followed immediately by both the briber and bribee being arrested- but in Huw’s reckoning, the unspoken rules that governed interactions between corporations in Neo Miami were what influenced the rest of the city.
Sure, Crescent Hill was peaceful to a degree, but that was only because the corporations had implicitly made it such. Nobody wants to start bombing their competitors’ most valued employees when their own most valued employees lived in the same neighborhood- and were well-known. Living in Crescent Hill was less an honor and more of a sacrifice- you’re there because you’re valuable to the company as a hostage, but the act of being there means you’re now the first choice for any attempts at espionage.
Huw had tried his hand at that a couple times, back when he was first starting out. Planting bugs was always fun, as was forwarding that information, but being a proxy in the war between corporations becomes hazardous to one’s health eventually, just for what they think you know, so Huw bowed out of further contracts before he learned too much.
These days, he and his clients stayed anonymous- for both their stakes. That’s what the hoodie was for- Neo Miami is almost always dark, and people stand out with neon in their clothes. Not wearing any neon is suspicious when people notice it, but when you’re dressed in all black and stick to shadows it’s hard to notice otherwise.
The walk to the industrial district is a short one, though moderately refreshing. Billboards of beautiful trees line the sidewalks and neon signs flicker as cars rush by, the scent of rubber and glass all around. An old man, tired, was staring at one of the billboards, and as he passed by, Huw absently pulled a wallet from the man’s back pocket, pocketing it in his hoodie as he walked. Huw knew the type- the man wasn’t going to notice until he got home, if then.
A distant rumbling and the creaks and groans of a Terra Suit signaled to Huw that he’d reached his destination- the yellow, man-sized mech looked like it had just gone through repair, and he approached the dingy scrapyard, occasional street lights and the bright glow of the fence lighting the way.
A figure, outlined in green, stood waiting.
“You Smith?” Huw asked, voice rasping slightly.
“Only if you’re Edison, my good man.”
Smith offered his right hand for a shake. Huw took it, glancing briefly at the prosthetic’s blooming flowers on each knuckle as he shook.
In a cramped environment like the Cluster, the transition from sleep to wakefulness is immediate. Fai was already up- no doubt making sure the kids were ready to go about their days at school- and Huw took a moment to appreciate the extra couple of moments of sleep she had deigned to grant him.
The kids were quieting now, and Huw could smell the corn Fai had left out before heading to her day job herself. Huw stretched as he lightly padded over to his phone, the white glow of its screen contrasting the neon lighting up his family’s apartment.
Huw looked out his window at the busy streets below, red-green-blue lights flickering as cars zipped through the busy street near the Cluster’s parking garage. Shaking his head, Huw walked back to his table and picked up his phone, checking through his email.
SUBJECT: DINNER TONIGHT
TO: Albert, Edison
FROM: Smith, James
BODY: Hey Ed, how’s it going? Listen, I know it’s been around three weeks but I just wanted to follow up on that contract we discussed. I know you’re a busy man and it’s on pretty short notice but would you like to meet up with the five of us later? We’ve been working pretty hard- the noises the local mechs make are pretty distracting, but we’ll manage.
Hoping to hear from you soon,
James
The message was in his code, at least. The origin email was right, too- these measures probably wouldn’t hold up under intense scrutiny, but Huw avoided jobs that put him under intense scrutiny in the first place. With two kids, Huw couldn’t afford scrutiny- not even about his living arrangements. It wasn’t uncommon for a group of a dozen or so people to buy out an entire floor in an apartment building in the Cluster, but it was worthy of a second glance- the risk, however, was worth the security and anonymity it provided himself, his family, and his crew.
Knocking out connecting walls between two apartments to double the space for his family was probably a bit too blatant an expression of ownership, but The Cluster was autonomously managed and maintenance and security were left up to the residents.
Huw sighed, got dressed in his work clothes- black hoodie, black jeans, a white polo with blue neon threads, and a pair of sturdy black boots- and strode out of his apartment.
The upside of living nearby the industrial district is that it’s really easy to find an unsupervised spot to hold a meeting- a great boon in Neo Miami, where the only thing stopping a corporation from deciding to look at your emails was the fact that if they got caught they’d be in deep shit and unable to legally prosecute you for anything those emails said if they weren’t obtained with a warrant.
That didn’t stop corporate loan sharks or hit squads from coming after you, of course, but most of those were audited by a separate department and those departments still wanted something resembling just cause to avoid getting their policies destroyed by the other corporations.
Neo Miami- black, glowing city that it is- was run by the corporations. Sure, the police enforced the laws where they could, and even some places they couldn’t, and were well-known to be incorruptible- successful bribes tended to be followed immediately by both the briber and bribee being arrested- but in Huw’s reckoning, the unspoken rules that governed interactions between corporations in Neo Miami were what influenced the rest of the city.
Sure, Crescent Hill was peaceful to a degree, but that was only because the corporations had implicitly made it such. Nobody wants to start bombing their competitors’ most valued employees when their own most valued employees lived in the same neighborhood- and were well-known. Living in Crescent Hill was less an honor and more of a sacrifice- you’re there because you’re valuable to the company as a hostage, but the act of being there means you’re now the first choice for any attempts at espionage.
Huw had tried his hand at that a couple times, back when he was first starting out. Planting bugs was always fun, as was forwarding that information, but being a proxy in the war between corporations becomes hazardous to one’s health eventually, just for what they think you know, so Huw bowed out of further contracts before he learned too much.
These days, he and his clients stayed anonymous- for both their stakes. That’s what the hoodie was for- Neo Miami is almost always dark, and people stand out with neon in their clothes. Not wearing any neon is suspicious when people notice it, but when you’re dressed in all black and stick to shadows it’s hard to notice otherwise.
The walk to the industrial district is a short one, though moderately refreshing. Billboards of beautiful trees line the sidewalks and neon signs flicker as cars rush by, the scent of rubber and glass all around. An old man, tired, was staring at one of the billboards, and as he passed by, Huw absently pulled a wallet from the man’s back pocket, pocketing it in his hoodie as he walked. Huw knew the type- the man wasn’t going to notice until he got home, if then.
A distant rumbling and the creaks and groans of a Terra Suit signaled to Huw that he’d reached his destination- the yellow, man-sized mech looked like it had just gone through repair, and he approached the dingy scrapyard, occasional street lights and the bright glow of the fence lighting the way.
A figure, outlined in green, stood waiting.
“You Smith?” Huw asked, voice rasping slightly.
“Only if you’re Edison, my good man.”
Smith offered his right hand for a shake. Huw took it, glancing briefly at the prosthetic’s blooming flowers on each knuckle as he shook.
“So, what kind of job do you have for me?”